


Blind Pool

by ChingKittyCat



Category: Hoshi no Kaabii | Kirby: Right Back at Ya!, Kirby (Video Games), Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 14:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12278691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChingKittyCat/pseuds/ChingKittyCat
Summary: eNeMeE gets a call whilst on the brink of passing out from exhaustion. He just does his best to get the caller to shut up so that way he can go to sleep. He doesn't even listen to what the person is saying. He succeeds in his task and there are no future consequences to the call that affect him directly. Well, except for the fact that he'd managed to knock his glasses off the nightstand.-Just a little something I was thinking about.





	Blind Pool

    Max had made a mistake. Well, that's not entirely true. He made a series of mistakes which lead up to this current mistake, which was probably going to end him and his child's life.  
    All— yes, all— of his investors had pulled from Haltmann Robotics after they'd heard about his latest robotic commission. It certainly wasn't modest in its pay, but it also wasn't exactly modest in its usages. Simply, Max had been commissioned to make a robot capable of nuclear assault. With his homebase of Shiver Star, this wasn't very hard. There were more Bye-Bye Bombs here than one could ever need in order to stock this robot with whatever ammo it so required.  
    It wasn't the fact that he was able to build this thing that had ticked off the investors, it was that he did it. He did it, fully knowing what the outcomes would be. When you sell a Bye-Bye Bomb wielding robot to one of the galaxy's greatest war-loving species's tyrannical overlord, how could you not? He'd tried to keep the entire operation under suffocating secrecy, but even still, the public heard about it.  
    Shockingly, people wanted absolutely nothing to do with him now. The planet's small bit of press had scolded him through newspapers, even. He'd heard that there was also the possibility of the news reaching other planets, so that was  _real_ fantastic.  
    He'd really run out of options here. He ran his disembodied hand through his hair as he sat at his work bench. He was just staring at the oak of it, letting his eyes wander over the furniture and splayed out tools. Pens, pencils, screwdrivers, all that good stuff.  
    He'd really screwed up. He really did. Sure, he was swimming in dough at the moment, but what happens when that dough runs out? He'll be out on the streets. Susanna will be out on the streets with him. He didn't want that for himself, much less for her. A child shouldn't have to suffer from poverty or homelessness. He would do everything in his power to make sure it didn't happen.  
    But he had no power now.  
    He had no gameplan, he had nothing. He slouched over his desk, now resting his forehead on the wood like it would beam some knowledge into his head from doing so. Yet, that noggin of his was completely empty. Not even some form of anxiety wanted to take him over in this state. It was just an empty void in there.  
    Max let out a heavy sigh. He didn't feel sorry for himself. Stars, he just hoped to keep any idea of eventual poverty from Susanna's mind. He couldn't let her know about this. About how their little business was about to crash and burn for taking the biggest sale of the year.  
    Was he a monster for looking out for his own self interest? Did that make him cruel? He was a capitalist at heart, not a monster. He didn't want to think he had any choice in the matter. It was either take the commission or perish in the harsh winter permanenced streets of Shiver Star. Still, now, he regretted it. He was going to suffer from this.   
    He wasn't a monster. It was the ones who wanted it, demanded it from him who were the monsters.  
    Max sat back up in his chair, straight and proper. He looked about his modest garage. Towards the Batamon-inspired mechsuit he still had to get to work, to the plasma sword Susanna jokingly requested for her birthday, to all the other unfinished things that he could fit inside here. Which, well, considering he made robots bigger than his own home at times, he could fit few and far between.  
    He just needed to get some investors back, so he could finance his own projects.  
    But who in their right mind would back someone who made robots like that? Surely not any morally well standing people. Which, well, as far as Max knew, all of the rich investors he'd been previously supported by had morals. Principals and ethics. That's why they'd left now, after all. He just needed a rich investor who wouldn't judge him for selling Bye-Bye Bomb armed robots.  
    Max splayed his gloved hands out across the desk before going to fiddle with a pencil absentmindedly.  
    Rich people with no morals, rich people who could care less about what goes on in the galaxy.. Rich people, rich people.. Max just needed to think of one. He needed to think of one, just one. Then he'd be fine. Just one..  
    One did come to him.  
    Max felt a draft come over him. He couldn't believe he was honestly going to resort to this. No, he couldn't believe he was even thinking about resorting to this. This was like.. The sort of thing that could get the entirety of Shiver Star destroyed if he didn't deliver. There's a choice here.  
    Shiver Star or Susanna?  
    Max got up from his chair, reached into his jacket pocket. From it, he withdrew a card. Purple, with a signature logo on it. He'd found it in the cold savanahs whilst he was out for his morning walk. Well, uh, morning float. Since.. Well, he floated. Okay, he found the card whilst he was out on his bit of morning exercise. There.  
    He reached out for the garage's landline, which sat on a large toolbox next to the door to the rest of the house. Using the card as his reference, he punched in the respective numbers. He was going to be charged so much for an intergalatic call, but just the attempt was going to have to be worth it.  
    "Hello! You've reached Nightmare Enterprises's Customer Service, how can I help you?"  
    Male. Young.  
    "I need to speak to your boss."  
    He was just hoping the guy who ran the company wasn't currently busy.  
    "Sir, I'm sure whatever issue may have with your order can be resolved with me or another representative."  
    "I'm calling for business, not about your products."  
    "Ah, you should've used the 'business only' line then, sir."  
    "I would've loved to if you gave it out."  
    Okay, hold the sauce, Max.. Hold the sauce. The sauce was now in his hand, lid securely on. No more sauce tonight.  
    "Allow me to forward you to the business line, then."  
    "Thank you."  
    With that, there was a click from the other side. Waiting music replaced the employee's voice. After an eternity of the same jingle looped over and over, there was finally a response.  
    "'Ello, business line."  
    Female. Slightly saucy, maybe middle aged for her species.  
    "I'm looking to talk to your boss about-"  
    "Let me hold ya right there, sweet'art. If ya wanna talk to the boss, ya better be convincin' me first. You'se probably another down on 'is luck nobody, right? Lookin' round for any ol' place to throw ya some money, right?"  
    "I-"  
    "Because that's ninety-nine percent of the calls that be comin' through here, sweety. N' they all say 'lemme talk to your boss' and all that jazz. So, tell me, whats so special bout your grovel for cash, eh?"  
    "Uhm.."  
    Caught him a bit off guard with how deadly accurate that was.  
    "Well, my name is Haltmann, from Haltmann Roboti-"  
    "Oooh heyyy! You're the guy who sold the genocide robot to them bloodthoisty warlords! Oh, he'll love to talk to ya."  
    Oh sweet Stars, even people inside Nightmare Enterprises had heard of it!? He was going to question how, but..  
    "Alright sweety, sorry for the sass. You take care of yerself with the big man, okay? He'll be with ya in a couple minutes. He's been real busy today."  
    It appeared as if this was going to help him. Before he could say more, he heard the jingle from just a little while before. Internally, Max was wondering what exactly he was going to say. Was he going to speak with the CEO? With another representative?  
    Max wiped his brow. Why was he suddenly so sweaty? Was it the waiting?  His hands gripped the phone tightly to the point where he could hear its plastic squeak from the pressure.  
    The next minutes felt like hours. He was just floating there, waiting for the jingle to end, to be put on the line with whoever awaited him. He nearly jumped when the waiting music faded out.  
    "Nnhh.. H.. Hhello..?"  
    The voice on the other side either belonged to someone drunk or incredibly sleepy. Or both. It was a male's voice, hard to listen to. This is what the 'big boss' of Nightmare Enterprises sounded like?  
    "Hello, my good sir. My name is-" The voice on the phone yawned in the midst of his talk, "-Max P. Haltmann, from Haltmann Robotics."  
    "Mhm.."  
    Okay, from the yawn, Max deduced that he'd probably caught Mr. Bossman at a bad time. The guy sounded a tenth of the way from passing out. He heard something clatter to the ground on the other line and the fellow grumble something that wasn't of any coherency whatsoever.  
    "I've found myself in a predicament as of late, and in light of it, I am hoping to offer you a share in my company."  
    The other side was entirely silent. Max gulped a bit.  
    "I've found that your workers have heard of me from my most recent work on robots with the capabilities to launch Bye-Bye Bombs. Are you familiar with it as well, sir?"  
    Max recieved a noise from the other side. It.. Well, it was something. It sounded like an affirmation, but he was about sixty percent sure about that.  
    "So uh, that's a yes?"  
    Silence. Okay.  
    "..My uh, I've come here asking for fourty-four billion for seventy percent of my company."  
    Max just threw out a number. He was about to laugh it off, say how it was a joke, a jest in good nature.  
    "Uh huh.. Mhh.. Okay.."  
    Oh.  
    Y'know, on his robot? He'd made about like.. Three million off of that. Max's eyes widened in disbelief at what he just currently heard. That ridiculous number was agreed to?   
    "I-I.. Well, that was simple. It's.. Good to do business with you, sir."  
    "Mhm.."  
    "A-And I hope to do the paperwork with you soon."  
    "Mmmhmmm.."  
    It sounded like the phone had slipped from Mr. Bossman's hand and onto the floor after he hummed that. The movement of covers and blankets quickly followed, then more incoherent, soft noises.  
    Max had just.. He'd somehow managed to weasel the best deal in the entire galaxy. With Nightmare Enterprises. With all this money, he could.. He could do anything! He could go out, find lost places, discover new things..! Stars, he could even find the fabled, illustrious Mother Computer with how much cash he had now! He was set for life! His business was set for life!  
    Absolutely nothing could go wrong. Not now. Not for a long, long while, if he had anything to say with it. He got the biggest, dumbest grin on his face. Oh, how he couldn't wait to tell Susanna about this.  
    He hung up.


End file.
